r.r. b side

[mekachu04]

0

Killer drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Mrs Eustass told him not to worry, but her call still left him uneasy.
It wasn't like Mr. Blanchard to just disappear.

Drake was looking at him curiously. "You should go." he said finally.

Killer look at him, uncertain.

"Look - I'll cover for you. Clearly, something's up. Go."

"Orochi's gonna be pissed."

"Killer, you've never taken so much as a sick day. Fucking go. I'll tell him it was my call. You're useless distracted anyway."

Killer rolled his eyes, but shot Drake a soft smile. "Thank you."

Drake pulled his hat back and leaned through the window, kissing his cheek discreetly. "Call the ranch went you're home safe, and go check on your Kidd."




<><><>

There was a back road that was popular with the locals for cutting though the mountains








Killer started at the turn, knee bouncing in place, trying to figure out why it felt wrong.




There should be a tree there. Killer remembered it now - Wire had almost hit it back when Victoria was still around; the sharp turn at the bottom of the hill risky on good days, and when it was dry and the dirt was loose...

There should be a tree....

Killer couldn't leave the truck in the road like this - pulling past the turn and looking for a place to pull the Punk over and park. There was a gap between the tree line - the hill was rather steep, but Killer was able to back the truck up it anyway. He left her in reverse, pulled on the parking break, and then pulled the tire wedges out of the bed of his truck just to be safe.

Then he was jogging over to the turn, the road loose and crumbling over the edge, and down the crumbing ledge halfway down the rocky slope was the tree Killer remembered; ripped halfway up the middle of a dark red car.

He practically threw himself down the slope, headless of the loose rocks that threatened to trip him up, smashing into his calves as he slid and fell to the driver door

John Blanchard stared back at him; face blank and still. Eyes dull.

Killer had seen plenty of dead animals before. Killed a good number himself of the years.

He'd never seen a dead person before.

He forced himself to look past Mr. Blanchard, but all he could see was tree and glass and twisted car. He scrambled back up and behind the car - back seats empty - and was sliding down to the passenger side, heart in his throat as red hair came into view and then there was Kidd, held in place only by his belt, slumped forward and hanging in his seat.

'KIDD!" Glass from window and windshield was everywhere, and the door was crumpled, and Killer thought his own arm was going to dislocate trying to get the door open so he could get to his friend.

He was bale to get the door wedged open enough he was able to get his feet in and braced against the frame, push and kick the door down and away, the window popping out and shattering at open point as he did.

"Kidd, Kidd?" Killer ignored the sharp edges cutting though his jeans to crowd next to Kidd, frantically reaching in to try and wake him up, only for his right hand coming away coating in blood from Kidd's face. But he was still breathing, and Killer would deal with the rest as needed.

The belt was working hard to keep Kidd in place, and Killer left it as he checked to make sure Kidd wasn't trapped anywhere else; the front end was nearly in his lap, and sure enough, Kidd's feet were trapped. Killer got his right leg out easy enough, but when he went for Kidd's left leg, it was coated in fresh blood.

Killer knew the dangers of bleeding out, and he needed to stop the bleed before moving anything.

It wasn't Kidd's leg. It was his arm.

Or.. lack of arm.

Killer swallowed bile as he realised he was looking at the broken exposed end of Kidd's humerus. That was shattered bone. Bone that should have a whole set of other bones attached to it. The muscle and skin around it was just as ragged, and it was bleeding bad. With his left hand Killer had his belt off without a thought, right hand looking for the end of the of tears, trying to find how far up Kidd's arm the bleeding was.

Okay - this was doable, he told himself, making a loop in his belt passing the leather though the inside of buckle, and pulling it up over the ragged end of Kidd's left arm. He pulled the torn shirt out of the way, leather against skin, buckle outside, and ratcheted it as tight as he could get it, adjusting, and the ratcheting again.










Killer unclipped the belt, taking Kidd's weight unto his arms and pulling him free from the car. He held him in a fireman lift, looking up at the hill in dread, before turn back to the car.

There was no way he was going to be able to do this and come back and get Mr. Blanchard too.

"I'm sorry sir," he told him, adjusting Kidd, and started climbing back up to the Punk.










He kicked the tire wedges out as he passed, setting Kidd on the bench next to him as he looked down the mountain.

Right or left.

Right would take Kidd home - get his mom. Let her know what was happening, Let her decide what to do.

Left would take him down the mountain. Officer Smoker had a spot not far that he liked to patrol. Killer knew exactly where it was so he could avoid getting bused for whatever shit he was up to at any given time.

With a prayer, Killer took off down the mountain.







He'd never been so happy to be getting pulled over. Killer even looked heaven word and gave thanks when the blue and red lights started flashing behind him. He pulled Victoira Punk over as quickly as safely possible, hands up and out the door as soon as he pulled the parking break on.

Getting out of the truck had Officer sSmoker on high alarm, and Killer didn't even blink as the man was crouched behind his poor - firearm out and pointed at Killer.

He knew Officer smoker was familiar with his truck - he wasn't worried about getting shot - but he also did not have time for the man to get his ducks in a row - Kidd didn't have time for that.

"Bujin!" Smoker was standing up, holstering his firearm once he took in the blood on the young man, "Buijin, what the hell!"

Officer Hina still had her piece on him though, and Killer gestured to his truck, "It's Kidd - there was an accident and he needs a hospital."

Smoker gestured for Hina to check before reaching for his radio in the squad car. Killer remained where he was, hands up. Hina was in the cab of his truck, he could hear her, before her radio was going off. Smoker was looking at his cars back seat, before looking back to Killer.

"Buijin - an ambulance is going to meet us at the fire house. You will drive - safely - and we're going to escort you. Then you and I will have a chat. Good?"

Killer nodded, and got back in the truck.




Sure enough, the ambulance was just pulling in to the back country firehouse when they did, EMTs seeing to Kidd as Killer was essentially pushed aside and standing with Officer Hina. Smoker was talking to the first responders or radioing back and forth with control. Hina was listening in, and occasionally would let Killer know what was happening.

"They got a hold of the kid's mom, Mrs. Eustass is goign to meet the ambulance at he hospital."

Killer nodded that he heard, picking at Kidd's blood on his hands as he sat on the back bench on the open squad car

Hina frowned at the blood. "Do they need to look you over?"

"Nah." He shook his head, moving to sit on his hands, "it's all Kidd's"

After - they'll find out that isn't true. Killer's knees have been ripped to shreds and the back of his legs above his boots are cut and bruised. His forearms are cut and his hands and knuckles bruised and scrapped raw.




Smoker came back, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "Okay, Buijin. How did this happen?"

Killer recounted what he did know, Hina taking notes, Smoker prompting him every now and then. There wasn't much to tell, honestly.

"John's still int he car?" Smoker asked him, Killer nodding miserably.

"Buijin, Buijn, kid, look at me." Killer looked up.

"Is there any chance he's still alive?"

Killer wanted to say no, but looking back at the officer he wasn't sure anymore. "I ..I couldn't carry them both!" he defended, starting to panic. He wouldn't cry - god he wouldn't cry. He had to pick one. He picked Kidd.. did he just kill Kidd's dad?

Smoker squatted down then, no longer towering over him, and started him dead in the eye, "Could Mr. Blanchard still be alive?"

Probably not by now.. "I.. I don't know."

"Okay. Okay" Smoker nods, making an executive decision, "The EMTs are goign to take Kidd now. I want you to take me up to the crash; Fire & Rescue will meet us up there. You got your keys, or are they in the truck still?"

"Truck," Killer answers.

"I'd like you to give us permission for Officer Hina to drive your truck, can you do that?"

Killer nods.

"I need to to say it. Say Officer Hina can drive your truck."

"Officer Hina can drive my truck," Killer parrots obediently. Hina nods once and leaves, Smoker frowned. Lord help this boy, he really needed to learn when to ask for a lawyer.

"Right. Okay."

He went to stand when Killer went and surprised him again, holding his hands out like he was expecting to be cuffed. Which... usually that was the case; Smoker wasn't sure he'd ever had an interaction with the young man that didn't involve him in cuffs at some point. "Put your seat belt on," he said instead, closing the door.







They drove up the mountain in relative quiet, broken only by an occasion word from Killer to turn to another side road, or the crackle of radio. Killer guided them up the mountain, until he pointed out the turn with the crumbling road.

"Stay here," Smoker ordered, stepping out and looking over the edge. Fire and Resuce pulled up slowly behind his squad car and he and the others climbed down to the car.







Smoker would have reports to fill out still, but it was clear that nothing more could be done for the driver, and after speaking with the second crew, they agreed to get a different officer out and Smoker got back in his car.

He radioed in, before looking in the review mirror to the man in the back of his squad car.

"I'm nineteen now," Killer said suddenly, trying to look self assured. "So.. So you don't need to call my dad anymore. You can just arrest me now. It's okay."

If smoker ever had a chance to meet Hitokiri in a dark alley... He wasn't about to say Killer was a 'good kid' but his old man had done him no favours growing up, and the fact even as an adult he was still more afraid of his father than he was at being arrested said a lot about the man's parental methods.